


Bullets, Sex Ritual or Wedding?

by respoftw



Series: 30 prompt OTP challenge - McShep [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cultural Differences, Holding Hands, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: The team stumble into a cultural misunderstanding situation off world.  There are only ever three solutions to cultural misunderstandings....bullets, sex ritual or a wedding.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randommindtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randommindtime/gifts).



> The wonderfully talented Bru sent me a SGA flavoured 30 prompt OTP challenge (I don't know where the original came from, so I can't link it!).
> 
> This is my attempt at prompt #1: Holding Hands
> 
> For @randommindtime who isn't feeling well - I hope this cheers you up!

Rodney blamed John’s hips; their slinkiness, their underhandedness.  If someone would just teach the Colonel to walk like he wasn’t made of sex, situations like  _ this _ would never happen.

John’s eyes flashed a silent plea of ‘help me’ as yet another village elder walked up to him with a young, nubile female villager on their arm, all but offering the poor girl up to John on a silver platter.  Rodney sighed heavily.  The most painful thing was, John  _ really _ never saw it coming.

Rodney didn’t blame the villagers - well, obviously the idea of gifting a person to someone horrified him, he absolutely blamed them for  _ that _ \- but he could understand their deeply ingrained desire to lock John into their breeding stock.  It was the same Darwinian desire that early man had after all - only the strongest survive and if these people were going to survive, they would need the strongest genes.   Rodney thought they would have to be blind, deaf and dumb (and have an IQ of below 50) not to recognise John Sheppard as their strongest chance of survival. 

God knows that Rodney had taken one look at John Sheppard and immediately thought “ _ want, need, mine _ ”.  

John, however, was very much  _ not _ on board with this village’s plan to marry him off to whichever young woman caught his fancy and Teyla, who was especially skilled at clearing these situations up with zero hurt feelings and zero bloodshed was nowhere to be found, too busy off doing her real job of securing a trade deal with the village of matchmakers.  

A quick look at Ronon showed that he wasn’t planning on doing anything to stop it; he was far too busy leering at the food being prepared in their honour.  Rodney took a deep breath and let it out.   _ If you want something done right, do it yourself.   _ Wasn’t that always the way?

He walked towards John, reached out and grabbed his hand, tangling his fingers with John’s own.  “I’m afraid the Colonel is tak- - “  Rodney didn’t even get to finish his sentence before something hard smacked into his head and blackness overtook him.

* * *

Rodney woke up with a growling headache which wasn’t made any better by John yelling at him.    


“How was I supposed to know that touching someone with your left hand was tantamount to defiling them?”  Rodney shifted uncomfortably in the bonds that held his left arm to the altar in front of him.  His right arm was chained to the base of the altar with a heavy manacle that he just knew was going to leave a ring of bruises when it came off.  It was exceptionally painful and all in all he felt it was really unfair for John to be yelling at him right now.

“Maybe because Teyla covered that particular taboo in the briefing?”  John seemed to be channelling his inner McKay as his arms waved around the air in frustration which Rodney found particularly irritating as he could move neither of his arms in response.

Rodney frowned. He had no recollection of that warning whatsoever and he was normally very vigilant about remembering things that could save his life or - in this case - his hand. “Was that while we were playing Hangman?”

John’s shoulders slumped in defeat.  “Must have been.”

Rodney grinned in victory.  “Ha!  You don’t remember it either!”  

“I’m not the one chained to a great big slab about to get their hand chopped off,” John stressed.  “What the hell were you thinking, McKay?”

“Wait, wait,”  Rodney felt his pulse start to race, “what do you mean,  _ about to get my hand chopped off _ ?  You’re standing right there, I thought you were here to release me?!  You’re not going to stand by and let them do this, right?  _  RIGHT?! _ ”  John was being so terrifyingly silent that Rodney felt justified in screeching a little bit.

“Yeah, about that…”

* * *

Rodney stomped through the Stargate which had the double bonus of working off his frustration  _ and _ causing John to stumble behind him courtesy of the dyed orange ribbon that the village elder had used to bind their left hands together.   


Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the strange sight.  “Dare I ask..?”

“There was a slight cultural misunderstanding,” Teyla answered, diplomatic as ever.

“Ah,”  Elizabeth nodded discerningly.  “So...how did we get out of this one?  Bullets, sex ritual or wedding?”

“Wedding,” Ronon grinned, jerking his head in John and Rodney’s direction.  

“Congratulations boys,” Elizabeth grinned.  “That makes it, what, your fifth?”

“Seventh,” John grumbled as he worked his knife under the ribbon.  “Would you stop moving?”  He glared at McKay.  “This stuff is stronger than it looks and I don’t want to cut you.”

Rodney stopped his agitated wriggling, holding as still as he could while John cut their bonds.  Finally free from the cursed ribbon, he shook his wrist out, tutting in displeasure when he saw the telltale sign of burgeoning bruises to match the ones on his right.

“Come on,” John grabbed at his hand and pulled him forward.  “We’ll get Carson to look at your wrists during the post-mission check up.”

Rodney let himself be dragged from the gate room, glad to leave a chuckling Elizabeth behind. “You know,” he said as soon as they were alone, “holding hands is exactly what got us in this situation in the first place.”  

John’s hand tightened around his.  “Yes, well, forgive me if I want to reassure myself that your hand’s still there McKay,” he snapped.  

Rodney stopped in his tracks, forcing John to stop too.  “Hey,” he said softly.  “I’m fine.  You stopped it from happening.  I’m OK.”

John’s face softened slightly, his mouth ticking up.  “I still want Carson to check you out,” he said gently. “Gotta make sure my husband is in perfect working order for the honeymoon.”

Rodney grinned.  The honeymoon was always the best part of these off world weddings.  “Think we can make it live up to honeymoon number four?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively just to hear John laugh.

“Seven  _ is  _ my lucky number,” John smiled.  “Let’s see what happens.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://buffycuddlespigs.tumblr.com)


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